


A Night Out

by terma_archivist



Category: Once a Thief (TV), due South
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:41:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Plot, yeah right. Not much of one. Victor's boss has sent him down to Chicago to deliver a prisoner and he meets Ray. They like each other. Sex happens. C'mon, you can suspend any sense of practical, real life consequences for the time it takes to read this, can't you?
Relationships: Ray Kowalski/Victor Mansfield
Collections: TER/MA





	A Night Out

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> Beta reading by my best beloved, Erika E, and Dr Ruthless. (The Doctor flips open a badge and shouts, "Syntax police! Hands off those capitals CJ! Just drop the thesaurus, don't make a key stroke and nobody will get hurt.")

Go to notes and disclaimers 

**A Night Out  
by Carl Jane**

  
Victor had wondered aloud about why he was being given this job when the Director had assigned him the task of escorting a prisoner down to Chicago. As she heard the half-hearted question, the Director's auburn eyebrows raised, her scarlet lips had pursed in amusement, and she made an obscure observation that 'getting out of town for a while would do him good'. That damned woman never could just answer a question and pressing the topic might have provoked more of her flirting, rather frightening, attentions than Victor was prepared to deal with. 

It occurred to Victor that the errand might have something to do with his blooming relationship with Li Ann Tsei, one of the new employees within 'The Agency'. The Director didn't appear to be a big fan of field agents pairing up exclusively. Victor frowned at that thought. Considering their boss practically controlled their every waking moment, Victor couldn't imagine how he could find someone outside of work to build a relationship with. The life of a secret agent was nothing at all like the James Bond movies he had enjoyed in his youth. Instead it was confusing, frustrating, and indescribably isolating. 

The phone on the desk beside Victor rang, dragging him back to the here and now. The papers that Chicago PD needed his signature on were still sitting in front of him. 

"Scuse." Someone sat on the other side of the battered desk and grabbed the jangling telephone. "Kowalski." He barked into the receiver. 

That was the name on the storage box Victor had shoved to one side so he would have room to set the forms on the desktop. This guy must be on his way out the door. His reasons were surely better than Victor's when his term at the Vancouver police department had come to a screaming halt. 

Victor wasn't even sure what had happened to the contents of both his locker and desk after the frame-up that had sent him to prison. He had gone from being held without bail straight into maximum security. The legal system didn't want to take chances with someone they thought was a dirty cop. 

When the Director had plucked him out of prison and recruited him into the Agency, he'd been pleased to discover that the woman had somehow recovered most of his regular possessions and stocked an entire apartment for him but a great many small things had gotten lost along the way. 

When his world had first fallen apart, Victor hadn't given much thought to his belongings. He'd asked his mother to take care of his things on one of the two occasions she had demeaned herself by visiting him behind bars. His Mother had nodded absent-mindedly and had then drifted to talking about the troubles she was having with his little sister. Victor hadn't been sure she would do anything beyond calling one of her charities to come and haul it all away. 

"I don't need this! Not today." The Chicago cop complained loudly into the telephone. 

Victor toyed with his pen and attempted not to eavesdrop on the conversation, or at least to look like he wasn't eavesdropping, on the cop. 

The police officer was practically growling. "Yeah, fine. Whatever. I'll come in t'morrow." He slammed the handset down without a departing courtesy. "Slimy bastard." A hand swiped back through blondish brown hair making it stick up in all directions. Pale blue eyes noticed Victor's gaze. "Divorce lawyer." He said self-consciously, as if that explained everything, and in some ways it did. 

Victor offered up a sympathetic wince. "Lots of changes for you, I suppose." He inclined his head towards the box of belongings. "You leaving the force." The idea that someone would give up this job willingly baffled the ex-cop. 

That question earned him a bark of laughter. "Not fucking likely. I'm just transferring. You my replacement?" the Chicago officer countered, examining the seated man with a frown. It was hard realising that he wasn't going to be at this desk on Monday. Stanley Raymond Kowalski wasn't even going to exist. By this time next week he would be Raymond Vecchio full time. Weird. At least the Ray was still the same, he thought, as he was already comfortable thinking of himself as 'Ray'. 

Victor smiled wistfully. What he wouldn't give to get back into the clear light of official police work. The shadows in which The Agency sometimes worked made him nervous. "Just making a delivery. I'm down from Vancouver. We snagged one of your stray perps." If that statement suggested that he was still a cop himself, there was no harm in it. 

"A Canadian." Kowalski laughed again, a little more honestly this time. "I must be hitting the start of a streak or something." 

"Pardon?" 

"Nuthin'." The American shrugged the statement off. He wasn't about to divulge his new assignment to a complete stranger, even one so pleasant as this. "Ray Kowalski." He distracted the other man by offering up an introduction. Maybe he should have said Vecchio but the complete transformation could wait until Monday. Still, he might as well get comfortable with using the 'Ray' part of his name. Fuck, he decided right then that he was going to make himself into a Ray right down to his core over course of this weekend. It would be one way to escape all the crap raining down on 'Stanley' right now. 

The introduction was the right thing to do. The Canadian seemed happily stunned by the friendly overture. 

"Victor Mansfield." The response was a bit slow off the mark but there was honest delight underscoring his voice. 

The guy was probably used to being ignored in a place so far from home, Ray decided. Now that he thought about it, this might be a perfect opportunity to look a typical Canadian over. After all, he was going to have to start playacting the part of some Mountie's partner in just a little while according to the file his superiors had shown him. "So Mansfield, are you almost done here?" A finger flicked, indicating the paperwork. 

"Oh this?" Victor shrugged. To be honest he'd been dragging his heels on the form. It was simply too inviting, lingering in the police station, and besides which he had nowhere to go but back to his hotel room. The prospect of going out or doing the tourist thing, all alone, was unappealing. "Nearly finished." 

"Ya wanna go get a beer? I feel like drinkin' and I'd rather not drink alone." Ray offered. It caused a dazzling smile to break across the Canadian's face. The guy's eyes practically sparkled at hearing the invitation. Kowalski found himself surprised that he noticed Mansfield's eyes but they were damned hard to overlook, surrounded as they were by thick black lashes of the kind that his wife would need to put ten minutes into achieving. No, make that his ex-wife. Son of a bitch. A depression was yawning open before him and he needed to shake it off. Ray leaned over to glance at the paper lying on the desk. "You don't need to do all that crap. As long as you've got a John Hancock on your transfer sheet you can toss this into the round file." 

Victor looked up at him with a confused expression. "Pardon?" 

Ray grinned, grabbed the sheet and pitched it into a nearby trashcan. "That'll do it." 

* * *

The bar was starting to get crowded as the sun went down. The noise level had doubled over the last twenty minutes. Victor and Ray had been lucky to arrive earlier and order food or they wouldn't have gotten a booth to themselves or any attention from the waitress. 

"You're a beer snob." Kowalski playfully accused his drinking partner. 

"It's our national beverage." Victor smiled and tipped his bottle to illustrate his point. "We have certain expectations." His grin widened. "Do you know why American beer is the same as screwing in a canoe?" he asked, in an arch tone. 

Ray's eyebrows lifted expectantly. 

"They're both fucking close to water." Victor leaned back in his side of the booth, looking quite pleased with himself. 

"You speakin' from experience?" 

"Oh yeah." The Canadian drawled. "I live in an igloo and wear snowshoes to work ten months of the year too." His dark head shook. "Sorry. I'm a city-raised brat. I did a turn in Scouts and got canoeing occasionally, but considering I was sharing the ride with two other fifteen-year-old boys, not a lot of making out went on," he snickered. "Though considering what a horndog Dave Manning was I might've got some if our Venturer leader wasn't such a light sleeper." 

Ray coughed and sat down his glass of draft with a splutter. Mansfield had been continually surprising him over the course of the last two hours, growing bolder in his manners as he got more comfortable with Ray's company. 

"Don't look so shocked." Victor took a sip of beer. "Don't most teenage boys experiment with that sort of thing?" 

Ray shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I didn't do a whole lot of playing around before I found my... " His mouth snapped shut and his eyes dropped to the sticky tabletop. Stella was now his ex-wife, damn it, Kowalski internally corrected himself for the thousandth time. Besides which, his ex-wife wasn't something Ray wanted to think about tonight. It seemed that lately he'd been considering going out clubbing to pick up a woman nearly every other night, but it still felt wrong somehow, as if he were cheating on Stella. 

"Women." Victor murmured almost to himself. "Still there's something to be said for having a steady lady in your life." 

"Ain't nothing like it." Ray agreed. "I miss her," he mumbled, mostly to himself. 

Li Ann's face drifted across Victor's thoughts. It had been too long since he'd woken up beside someone, but the oriental woman was so hesitant to accept anything more than casual contact from him. It was frustrating. Victor wondered what it would take to convince her that he was serious about dating her. He was so damned lonely. 

"You got a girl at home?" Ray dragged himself out of his own misery to notice that the other man's smile had completely faded away. It was strange how much the loss disappointed him. 

"Not really. " Victor admitted. "My Boss flirts with me at least once a day and there's this rookie I've been meeting for coffee on and off but... " He shrugged. "The work interferes." Victor stayed vague, quietly enjoying the illusion of being a regular cop rather than a Government agent. It seemed so much cleaner. "Is that what happened with you?" He gestured with his bottle. "That divorce lawyer you were talking to?" 

"Her job." Ray glanced at his watch, tempted to flee from the conversation but not willing to return to the barren new apartment he was now living in. "My job." He admitted. "She's changed. I haven't, she says. There's some sanitary term for it on paper. Fucking garbage." Kowalski snarled. 

"Sorry." Victor had noticed his companion preparing to escape and thought frantically, but unsuccessfully for a change of topic. "Do you have to go already?" It was pathetic, he realised, how desperate he was to hold onto the other man's attention. "Jeez." Victor collapsed back into the cushioned booth, disgusted with himself. "Sorry. That came out... " He trailed off. 

Ray rocked his glass against the tabletop, looking embarrassed. "Well ain't we a sickin' pair." His chuckle conveyed more than a little irony. When he lifted his eyes from the tabletop he accidentally met the other man's green gaze dead on. A sensation the like of which he hadn't felt in too long tore into Ray's gut. The urge to lean across the expanse and trace his fingers down Victor's face caught him completely off guard. He hadn't felt like that about another guy since the day he'd first laid hands on Stella and even back then he had never got up the nerve to act on those stray impulses. 

Victor's head tilted to one side in an unconsciously provocative movement. Those dark jade beauties widened even further in inquiry. Kowalski was staring at him with strangest expression on his angular face. 

"I'm sorry." The Canadian repeated. His cheeks flushed in the dim light. "I wasn't thinking. I'll get out of your hair." Victor started to slide across the black vinyl. 

"Hey." Ray ran a hand back through his sandy blond spikes. "You raggin' on my style?" He stalled. "You think just any old barber can pull this off? I had to look all over the fucking city for one that had a weed-whacker." The cop invited Victor to share in the jest. 

The Canadian paused at the edge of the seat. A small smile played across his lips. "I like it. Only a guy with some nerve would try to pull it off." His own hair was still cropped into a simple cut that practically screamed 'police officer'. Victor's forehead smoothed out once more. Only a small wrinkle remained between his brows. 

"Where are you staying, Victor?" Ray asked in a rather cautious tone. He wasn't even sure why he was asking. 

The crease cut in deeper as Victor studied his companion. "A few blocks over. Why?" He paused, not sure if he wanted to extend the invitation that was on the tip of his tongue. He barely knew this guy. He wasn't likely to ever see him again after leaving Chicago. Casual sex wasn't something Victor indulged in as a rule, but he was so lonely tonight that his heart was aching. "Would you like to come up to my room?" he dared, still perched on the edge of flight. 

Ray's pale gaze darted wildly around before settling once more on Victor. "Yeah. I think I wanna." He admitted reluctantly. "I'm not sure why 'zactly but yeah, I do." 

* * *

Victor walked about the room flicking on the lamps while Ray stood just inside the door. The Chicago cop had grown quieter with every step they had taken. The Canadian wondered if Kowalski would have run for it if he hadn't been giving Victor a ride. 

"I don't... " Ray began. "I ain't sure what's up with 'dis." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets. 

"It's not like I make a habit out of bringing guys back to my room." Victor made a point out of stepping away from the bed that dominated the room. "Should I order up some coffee, or beer, or something? I've got room service." The Canadian shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the bathroom door. 

Kowalski continued to linger near the exit. "Not on my account." His jaw line firmed up and he walked further in. "Me and Stella were together right out of school. I ain't real... " Ray hesitated, "... experienced at ... " his eyes flickered over the bed, "... anything much." 

A shrug lifted Victor's shoulders. His last brushes with gay sex had been in prison and he wasn't about to elaborate on those for the policeman. "Would you rather go downstairs, or even leave? I'd understand." 

"I don't want to leave." The declaration was forceful. He paced over and planted himself right in front of Victor. His hand lifted only to bunch into a fist right before touching Mansfield's chest. "This is too weird. How do we start?" 

Victor took the clenched fist between both his hands. Using steady, gentle pressure, he managed to open it. "I'm going to kiss you. Okay?" The warning was softly spoken. 

"Okay. Yeah. Greatness. You do that." Ray's babbling was ended only by Victor's mouth pressing onto his. It started as a simple kiss and then Victor's tongue tickled across the cop's lips at the same time his arms eased around Ray. 

It was altogether different from kissing a woman. Ray had to lift his face to make contact with the taller man and the arms that held him were muscular and thick. This kiss itself was more powerful as well. Stella's flirty, sweet kisses were nothing like this. Mansfield was resolute, drowning passion. His mouth insisted that Ray's open to him without being so forceful as to frighten the more inexperienced man. Victor's hands weren't still either. One slid up Ray's spine, fingers spread wide to get as much contact as possible. The other hand eased carefully down to just below Ray's tailbone, where it held, keeping their bodies snug together. 

Ray broke the kiss with a desperate gasp for air. "Fuck." He mumbled. His eyes were wide with surprise. "You kiss like a SWAT team taking a crack house." 

The comparison provoked a sniff of laughter from Victor. His hand shifted so he could run his thumb across the tender skin below Ray's ear. "Tell me if it's too much. I don't mean to push. I'm just... " Victor's thumb pad traced around to touch the corner of Ray's mouth. "It's been a while. Don't let me push you." 

"No. This is okay." Ray's hip turned and he felt the other man's erection press against him. "You want me. I like that. It's a nice change." 

Victor smiled against Ray's skin. "How could anyone not want you?" he mumbled. His upper hand moved to slide Ray's jacket off his shoulders. "Can I see you? Can I undress you?" The garment fell away, hitting the carpet heavily. 

Ray's t-shirt was next. It peeled up and over his head without a snag. Victor was thrilled with the musculature that was revealed. Ray was wiry compared to himself and nothing like any of Victor's recent lovers. That gave the encounter uniqueness. He could take this fling and place it in a special corner of his mind. "Lovely." The word seemed to strangely suit the cop. 

There was no reason to hurry so Victor indulged himself. He took the time to map out every bit of exposed skin with his fingertips and lips, gradually circling around the other man. By the time he finished his explorations and concentrated his attention on the nape of Ray's neck the American was shivering and faint, not quite distressed noises were sounding low in Ray's throat. 

"You okay?" Victor prompted as he pressed himself to the other's back. One palm skittered over a sharp hip to stroke across straining denim. 

Ray hissed, bucking into the light contact. "I'm dying here." 

"You want to lie down?" 

"Fuck. I don't know. Yeah, I suppose." His legs felt as if they were going to give out. It was with a complex mixture of relief and trepidation that Ray allowed himself to be guided to and settled on to the edge of the bed. 

"Lie back." Victor suggested, pressing at the other's shoulders. "I'd like to take the rest of your gear off," he warned as he knelt down between Ray's knees. Victor's hands smoothed up blue-jean covered thighs until they came to a rest at the waistband. 

"Why's it feel like yer givin' me the skittish virgin special?" The American's laugh was just a bit on the hysterical side. "I don't need the kid gloves treatment." 

Victor gazed up. His green eyes had darkened. "I'm not much for casual encounters," he explained. "If it's all right with you I'd just as soon treat this like it might be the start of something, even if it isn't." Soft lips dropped to set a kiss on Ray's crotch. "You're worth all the time and attention I'm giving you." Victor assured the other. 

"I... thank you." Simply accepting the compliment was awkward but it seemed to be what Victor wanted. Ray layed back with a heavy breath and stared up at the ceiling. When he felt Mansfield pop open the button above his zipper his breath faltered. When that same zipper began to descend Ray held his breath, this was overwhelming. 

"It's okay." Victor murmured. "I know it's a lot. My first time with a guy was a revelation. It was sweet and terrifying at the same time." His fingers moved. "Lift up, Ray." 

The cop felt a tug at his underwear and jeans. 

"Be grateful you're not seventeen and that your boyfriend's family isn't sleeping down the hallway." Victor peeled away the American's pants. 

Another nervous laugh broke from Ray's throat. "I feel like a teenager right about now," he admitted. His shoes and socks were taken, and then the scant weight of his jockeys and jeans on his legs disappeared. 

"You're gorgeous." Victor's fingers skimmed up lean legs, leaving the skin tingling as they passed. "You feel wonderful." 

Ray tipped his head to look down his body at Mansfield. "Am I the only one that's gonna get naked here?" He questioned. 

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself." Victor didn't sound apologetic. He inched up to bend and plant a kiss on the tip of Ray's cock, making it bob with excitement. 

"Son'bitch!" The American's body attempted to strain upward when Mansfield stood. 

"Hold that thought." Victor peeled himself out of his own clothes with much less finesse than he'd used undressing Ray. 

Ray had to admire the other man's fine form. Victor was thicker set and tightly muscled without looking like some kind of weight lifter. The Canadian was a bit on the pale side and only sparsely haired. Ray stared, imprinting the other man's type on the back of his mind. Yeah, he could go for this again. Kowalski was surprised women weren't crawling over each other to get hold of Mansfield. The guy was devastating. 

Victor's clothes were tossed aside carelessly and in no time flat he was climbing back onto the bed beside his companion. 

A deep breath was pulled in, and then the air shuddered back out of Kowalski. "I should warn ya, Victor. I'm really close to panicking right now." He couldn't seem to stop the shivers running up his spine. 

"It's going to be all right." The Canadian assured him. "I've got you." He stretched out beside Ray and cautiously extended a hand to pet the shivering body beside him from shoulder to stomach. "Nothing you don't want." Victor promised again. His palm circled the trembling belly several times before drifting into wider strokes. "You're perfect." 

A nervous laugh escaped the American. "Yeah, right." His voice was sceptical and tense. The caress felt exceedingly good but it made him nervous the way his body was arching up into the gentle contact. 

Victor shifted, closing the distance between them. He was halfway raised on one arm, able to bend over the other man. With clearly obvious movements, so as not to startle Ray, Victor leaned the rest of the way over and pressed his lips to Ray's fever-hot forehead. When no objection came his kisses continued. Victor brushed his mouth over the other's temples, across narrow eyebrows, and then down Ray's nose. Those pink lips opened immediately under him and Victor felt a thick rush of pleasure. 

Using the kiss as slight distraction, Victor let his fingers trail lower. When he wrapped his hand around Ray's erection the American let out a groan right into Victor's mouth. Pleased with the erotic sound, his hand continued to gently pump, dragging more moans out of the other man. 

Ray's arms had been lying at his side, his fingers bunching in the bedspread, but as the tormentingly slow hand-job continued he couldn't lay still. Shaking arms rose to drag Victor closer. His whole body was rising off the mattress, attempting to follow the other's touch. Ray's head fell backwards even as his hips lifted and he gasped desperately. "Oh God damn. Your hand... son of a bitch." Admittedly, Ray didn't masturbate that often but he'd thought he knew what he was doing. He didn't. His own jerking self-gratification was primitive when compared to the feel of Victor's fingers on him. Victor's touch was relentless, never pausing even when he wasn't actively stroking Ray's cock. Fingertips caressed his balls, skated across his hip and down the crease of his leg, then slipped back up and over his erection. The teasing contact tightened and then skittered loosely. A thumb brushed over the leaking head and Ray let out a strangled shout. "FUCK!" 

"Are you okay?" Victor hesitated. 

"Don' stop, damn you." 

"Let me... " It was hard moving down the other's body. Ray's fingers clawed at Victor in an attempt to keep him in place. The Canadian planted wet, open-mouthed kisses as he squirmed lower. They trailed from Ray's exposed throat, down his smooth chest and stomach. "Easy." Victor shifted his grip to the cop's hips, encouraging him to slide further onto the bed. "I want to taste you." His left palm ran down the inside of one leg then up again, gently encouraging Ray's legs to spread apart. 

"Fuck." The American moved awkwardly, rolling his hips as he shimmied over the nubby fabric. "Yeah." Ray's hands trembled and he laid one on the Canadian's soft dark hair. "Do that," he allowed, wondering if his body could take the extreme sensation without flying apart. 

It could. Much to Ray's surprise when that wet heat closed over him he went boneless rather than tensing further. Victor's mouth didn't provoke, it welcomed. Kowalski's mouth opened but nothing more than a breathy sigh emerged. 

A few moments later Ray realised that Victor's hands hadn't slowed. While the Canadian gently suckled, his fingers continued to trace patterns and coax. They slid up over Ray's hips and around. He tickled the crease of Ray's legs and tenderly cupped his balls. The tension that had melted into delight began ratcheting back up again. 

Almost unconsciously, Ray lifted his legs and hooked over the other's shoulders. His lower body rose off the bed as if attempting to disappear inside Victor's mouth. Rather than discouraging this action, Victor's hands moved underneath to support Ray's ass, coaxing it higher. Victor's thumb slid into the crease and began working across the tight pucker. The American rumbled out a noise of confused pleasure at the sensation. The saliva dripping down Victor's chin served to make things damp and slippery. 

When his thumb first pierced Ray it took the American a second to realise what had actually happened. Ray froze a moment then let out a groan that was torn right up from the depths of his soul. Victor responded with a half-formed chortle, and then the tip of Ray's cock was shoved to the back of his throat. The action of his thumb hesitated a breath then began again, tenderly pressing and widening. Victor sucked his partner's cock harder, nicely counterbalancing the novel sensation of penetration that Ray felt. 

The licking and swallowing continued for a long time, as did the insistent stretching of Ray's entrance. Nearly constant groans could be felt vibrating through the cop's chest. His hips rolled restlessly and his legs were tight, holding the other man in place. An unexpected touch sent a flash of intense pleasure burning up Ray's spine. 

"Son. Of. A. Bitch!" Ray screamed, completely undone. "Whadda do? Do it again." He pleaded, his head tossing uncontrollably. 

Victor's fingers pressed deeper, invoking even more pleasure. Ray lifted off the bed in his eagerness to increase the feeling. Victor finally pulled his mouth off with a sloppy, sucking noise. 

"No!" Ray protested the loss with a frustrated wail. His heels attempted to dig and hold. 

"Maybe I shouldn't. You don't know me. I wouldn't normally." The Canadian began vaguely. "I won't hurt you," Victor murmured as he shifted around, squirming up to his knees. "But please," he attempted to adjust Ray's legs. "Can I have you? I want to be inside you." Fingers petted. "It's been so long and you're so hot." 

Ray's eyes shut tight and he let out a shuddering breath. "I suppose if I'm gonna do this, I might as well do it all." 

Victor's face turned and he planted a kiss on the inside of Ray's leg. "Take a deep breath. Relax and let it out when I tell you," he instructed. "You liked my fingers. You're gonna adore this, I promise." 

Blunt pressure pushed at Ray's behind. 

"Now." Victor's fingers held tight, pulling the other man towards himself at the same time his own body pressed forward. "Jeez!" 

Ray's closed eyes snapped open wide at he felt his body breached. All the air rushed out of his lungs and his hands spasmed against the sheets, attempting to hold on something. 

Victor went still. "It's okay. Relax. I won't hurt you." He didn't attempt to penetrate the other man any further and waited while Ray's mind and body adjusted to what was happening. "Jeez, Ray, you feel wonderful. Better than anything has in ages." Victor whispered, stroking the body below him. 

Ray found himself unable to respond, his mouth was open but all that he could manage were desperate gasps for air. It wasn't so much a physical thing as a mental thing. It was hard to wrap his mind around the fact Ray was not only allowing but encouraging a man he hadn't even known yesterday to fuck him. 

"Easy." Victor continued to pet. "Relax." He carefully eased his companion's legs and hips into a more comfortable position and slowly pressed the rest of the way in. A guttural exclamation of enjoyment accompanied the action. 

Once in place Mansfield held still except for the shivers running just under his skin. 

Ray squirmed, uncertain of what he wanted from the other man. 

"Carefully, I'm going to move," he warned, after a pause long enough to make both of them crazy. Then the rocking began. It was shallow to begin with, only gradually did Victor's strokes lengthen until at last he was thrusting hard and deep. 

Each sliding motion scraped across Ray's nerves as if the feelings were coming from every square inch of his flesh rather than just his ass. His arms flailed momentarily before Kowalski managed to wrap his hands around some wood spindles at the head of the bed. This was nothing like he had expected. It was a revelation. He tipped his hips up further, silently requesting to be taken even harder. 

Looking up at Victor only compounded the unreal situation. The Canadian's face was practically glowing. Sweat was spiking his short hair, darkening his long lashes and dripping off his forehead to splash down on Ray's tightly bunched body. Victor was throwing himself into the act with every fibre of his being. 

When Mansfield released his grip on his partner's hips to wrap his fingers around Ray's straining erection, the American finally lost the tiny bit of restraint he had left. He shouted out a demand for satisfaction. "Need that!" The slight shift in position was driving Victor's moving cock across that place inside him that set explosions off inside Ray's brain. 

Victor didn't respond verbally but his hand pumped Ray's erection and the slamming of his hips against Ray's body increased in speed. The Canadian's breath came in a series of harsh pants. A few words might have been mixed into the laboured sound but it was nothing Kowalski could recognise until Victor commanded, "NOW." His grip grew punishing. "Come now." 

Not sure if it was the smoky, erotic order, or the physical stimuli but an instant later the tremors that had been wracking inside Ray graduated into convulsions. If Victor didn't have him pinned Ray was certain he would have tossed him off the squeaking bed and onto the floor. Everything burned; his shivering legs, his fountaining cock, his ass, his spine, even his throat. 

You've never lived until this moment, Ray's chaotic thoughts insisted. All that mattered was the man on top of him and his own devastated body. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Ray wanted it to last forever. He wanted it again, and again. That thought continued to sink further into his mind as the rush finally began to dissipate. It took a conscious decision not to grab Victor, cling to him, and insist that the man never return to his own country. 

"Fuck." Victor's curse was faint and punctuated by the way he sagged above his companion. Reluctantly he pulled out and away to avoid collapsing on top of Ray. Instead he sank down beside his lover of the evening. 

Neither man spoke. Both were wrapped up inside their own minds. 

Victor moved so his arm was draped over the other man and his face was pressed into Ray's skin but his eyes were squeezed tightly shut. This was what he needed, even more than the sex, as wonderful as it had been. Victor wanted to lie next to another person and know he was welcome. There had to be someone willing to be with him like this every night. The possibility that Ray was that person was an illusion, Victor realised that, but it would do until he went home and could see about securing someone. Maybe Li Ann would be willing. 

The silence went on long enough that each man began to suspect that the other had fallen asleep. 

Ray was the one to break it. "When do you have to leave?" His question was a whisper since he wasn't sure Victor was awake to hear it. 

Victor almost feigned sleep to avoid answering. "My flight is on Sunday night. My boss wanted me to have a weekend off, I guess." He swallowed nervously at the awkward mood between them. "Will you stay with me this weekend?" 

The American's breath came out in a shaky stream. "Yeah. Greatness. I think I'd like that. I suppose I could show you around if you want." He gave in to the urge to cling and was pleasantly surprised when Victor opened his arms in welcome. "This is kinda strange but... " he floundered. "You're good." 

Victor laughed low in his throat and squirmed so even less space was between them. "Thanks." He petted across the other man's cooling skin. "But if it's alright with you could we... maybe we could just barricade ourselves in here?" Victor's lips pressed a kiss to the hair he had his face buried in. "If this is all we're going to get then I'd like to drag as much out of the weekend as I can." 

"Oh fuck." 

"Sorry." Victor made as if to pull away but Ray wouldn't let him. 

"I didn't mean 'no'. It's just strange." Came the explanation. "This is kinda a eye-opener for me, y'know." Ray swallowed. "But I'd like to stay. I really think I would. I should see that lawyer tomorrow but I could do it Monday." 

Victor carefully extracted himself from the tangle of their bodies and pushed up onto one elbow. His green eyes caught Ray's blue. The Canadian seemed to be judging something. "I wish it could be more than a weekend." Victor finally announced in a grave voice. "But if we thought that, we'd just be fooling ourselves, wouldn't we? I can't stay here, and I doubt I'll be back anytime soon." 

Ray blinked slowly. "I can't leave." He responded eventually. 

Victor nodded in silent agreement, a sad smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So we'd better make the most of what time we've got. Are you tired yet?" Fingers trailed down Ray's ribcage. 

"You got room service," the cop reminded Victor. "Feed me first and we'll see what happens." 

That's it. Milk and cookies time 

* * *

Email: [email removed]   
Date: August 2000   
This is a Once a Thief/Due South crossover featuring Victor Mansfield and Ray Kowalski. It's set before the start of Once a Thief and just before RayK joined the cast of Due South.   
Erika, my best beloved, wanted it. I thought it would be fun. It was.   
Rating: NC17, slash. That's male/male smut.   
Summary: Plot, yeah right. Not much of one. Victor's boss has sent him down to Chicago to deliver a prisoner and he meets Ray. They like each other. Sex happens.   
C'mon, you can suspend any sense of practical, real life consequences for the time it takes to read this, can't you?   
Disclaimers: Not mine, no profit... but they're both cancelled shows, so do the powers-that-be really care anymore? Shrug.   
Beta reading by my best beloved, Erika E, and Dr Ruthless. (The Doctor flips open a badge and shouts, "Syntax police! Hands off those capitals CJ! Just drop the thesaurus, don't make a key stroke and nobody will get hurt.")   
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